


The Patriot Line

by vassalady



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modeling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve agrees to model in one shoot for Tony for some extra cash. However, one shoot turns into multiple shoots when the designer, Loki Odinson, decides he wants Steve as the face of his new underwear line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Light and a little silly, the stuff of beach reads and rom coms. WIP  
> Thanks goes out to the peeps of the Loki/Steve skype chat. They love to help out when someone's hit a snag. :) Awesome bunch.  
> Also, this is unapologetically inaccurate when it comes to the fashion industry.

Steve was a fool to listen to Tony. "It's a quick buck," Tony had said. "Look, you don't want me loaning you money, let me give you some extra work. It'll be easy."

 _It'll be easy, sure_. But Tony decided not to inform him that “modeling” meant underwear modeling with other scantily clad men and women while Tony made them pose in suggestive tableaus.

"Come on, come on, more pout, Carol," Tony babbled as he worked. The clicks from the camera were rapid and unending. "Now you’re looking sick. Think sex. Good, good, a little to the left, Thor."

Steve was relegated to the background, lost among the mass of arms, legs, and torsos he found himself in. He glanced to the left to find a pair of rather robust breasts in front of his eyes, and he struggled to keep his blush down.

"Look to the right, everyone, to the right."

After far too long, Tony called for a break. Steve felt hot, exhausted, and exposed. He slipped on his bathrobe, although a number of the other models didn't bother. They accepted their make-up touchups and sips of water through straws with the calm grace that came from professionalism.

Steve decided that this would be the last time he took Tony up on his work offer.

He asked an assistant if he could step out for a moment. She told him to be back in five.

The fresh air invigorated him. Thankfully, the location was an old warehouse, so there weren't any busy streets nearby or curious onlookers from windows. Even with the robe, Steve would have felt indecent. A bird twittered somewhere overhead. He shaded his eyes from the sun to look for it.

"Excuse me." Someone stepped up beside Steve. It was a tall man, well-dressed, with a mild sneer on his face. Steve bit his lip, embarrassed.

"Oh, sorry." He stepped to the side, letting the man through. He realized that he should head back in, too, but the door swung shut. Now it would just be awkward to go in.

He waited as close to a minute as he could before entering, certain he’d been out for more than five minutes. But no one noticed him. Instead, they were watching the stranger and Tony argue. Neither spoke loudly, but their expressions were clear.

Steve approached the assistant he'd spoken with earlier. "Can I ask what's going on?" he said.

She shook her head, sighing. "Creative issues, apparently. Don‘t worry about them, they‘ll get their heads out of their asses eventually.” She glanced up at Steve before saying, “Look, have you had your make-up fixed yet?” The assistant - Pepper - began ordering people back to work.

Tony and the man's argument finally ended, and the man left as abruptly as he had come. Tony, clearly channeling his anger, snapped at people to take their places. Pepper pointed out they already were, but Tony appeared to not listen.

This was definitely the last time Steve would work for Tony.

"Eyes up, Steve! Focus!"

 

Tony called him early the next morning to set up a lunch date. Steve had planned on studying during his lunch break, but he eventually gave into Tony's pleading.

They met at Parker's Sandwich Shop. When Tony offered to buy Steve anything he wanted, Steve knew something was up.

"I've told you, you don't need to treat me."

"Come on, Steve, just this once. Consider it as further payment for yesterday. Actually, you know what, you should let me treat you more. I mean, it makes sense, right? You working class man by day, art student by night, me famous photographer, well, all the time-"

"Tony. What is it?"

Tony’s tendency to ramble was perhaps one of his most frustrating traits. He finally let his sunglasses fall down his nose to meet Steve's eye. "Look, could you do some more work for me? I know you said-"

"Tony, I'm not-"

"Steve, let me finish, I know you said you were done, but, look, you were awesome yesterday, really awesome. It'd just be a couple more days, nothing too big, just, you know, a couple more shoots for the same line-"

Steve held up his hand. "Tony, I told you, I'm done." He sat back with a shrug. "I wouldn't have even taken you up on it the first time if I'd known it was underwear."

Tony took off his glasses. He looked desperate. "Look, Steve. I really need your help. I'm going to lose a client if you don't agree. The designer saw the photos from yesterday, and he hated them. The whole shoot, down the drain. But, you, Steve," and Tony gestured grandly at Steve, "he wanted you in all of them."

Steve laughed. "Tony, stop joking around."

"I'm not." Tony grabbed Steve's hand and held it up. "Look, you want me to beg, I'll beg. I'd prefer to not bother with this guy at all, believe me, he's a spoiled princess, but this is Loki Odinson we're talking about. I turn him down, I get shut down."

Steve didn't follow fashion, but the name did sound vaguely familiar. Tony had likely mentioned him once before while talking about work. "Why would that shut you down?"

Tony stared at him like Steve had lost his mind. "Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. Are you listening to yourself?"

Steve shrugged. "What?"

"Odinson. As in the son of Odin."

Steve shrugged again.

"Odin, Odin Allfather, the name, I know, over the top, but this guy owns all the magazines worth knowing, all the stores worth shopping at, all the advertisement companies! You can't spit without hitting something Odin controls. Jesus, Steve. When'd you last poke your head out from under your rock?"

"It's not my thing." Steve didn't care who owned what or who was in or who was out. Sure, Tony made his life on it, but none of Steve's other friends cared, as far as he knew. Odin Allfather, Loki Odinson... what was it to him?

"Steve, you're killing me here. You're in art school, you could be working for one of these guys some day!"

"I'm not interested in graphic art or design. I like painting."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Right. Painting. Monet for you, sorry."

"I prefer Gauguin."

"Whatever. Just, Steve, please. I need you. I'll pay you double, I swear."

Double would give him a nice sum of money. He could buy new art supplies, get something nice for Bucky's birthday, which was soon, take everyone out for a drink maybe. He could put it towards a new motorcycle. That would be nice. Maybe he could pay for more classes or not worry about rent for a few months.

"Steve. Steve."

He sighed, having a feeling not even a new bike would be worth this. "Okay, Tony. Just a few more days, right?"

Tony let his head fall forward. "Oh, thank you, I thought I was going to have to guilt you into it."

Yes, he was already regretting this decision. But Tony needed his help, and Steve couldn’t leave him hanging.

 

Loki leaned back in his chair. Yesterday had been trying. Stark's shoddy work was absolutely ruining his creations, and Thor had been there. Yeesh. Loki had thought he'd made it clear to his father that Thor was not to work on any more of his projects. He was tired of trying to make Thor look good. Thor, Thor, Thor, it was all about Thor, Odin’s golden boy. 

He picked up one of the test prints from the day before. In one corner of the photo, behind Thor's overly bronzed body, a young man with just the slightest hint of red in his face stood. Loki ran a finger over the man. There was something about him that was inspiring. He had potential.

Maybe he would drop in on the next photo shoot and see how things were coming. Clearly, Stark couldn't be trusted.

There was a knock at his door. Loki dropped the picture to the desk. "Come in."

His assistant, Sif, popped her head in. "Your brother's asking to see you. He says it's urgent."

"I'm not in."

"He says he knows you are, sir."

Likely because Sif had told him. She was far too fond of his brother, like everyone else. He waved his hand. "Fine, send him in."

Thor stomped in with his usual manner of buffoonery. He was a walking stereotype. "Loki! What is this about cutting me from the Mischief line?"

Loki stood and smiled as good naturedly as he could. "I thought you were too busy, what with all your other works."

"Nonsense." Thor shrugged a shoulder, and he swept his long hair back. He was always sweeping his hair back, and Loki just wanted someone to inform him that the Fabio look was out. Loki would have done it himself, except he didn’t like repeating himself unnecessarily. Blond bricks never understood anything the first time around. "Your work always takes precedence. You're my brother."

It was the simplest and most obvious explanation for Thor. To Loki's ever growing frustration, it never entered his mind that family did not grant him a carte blanche when it came to Loki, his things, or his projects.

"Don't feel pressured. You can sit this one out."

"But, Loki-"

"Thor. As my brother, I'm telling you I want you to sit this one out."

Thor's face fell with honest disappointment.

Loki slung an arm around him and slowly led him to the door. "Think of it as a chance to explore other options. You cannot always be chained to my side. Try new things, new experiences." Fall off a cliff while you're at it, Loki thought.

"Perhaps... you are right," Thor replied, but he sounded uncertain.

"Trust me, Thor."

At that, his brother grinned at him. "Always." He hugged Loki tightly. "Best wishes, then."

"Goodbye, Thor."

After shutting the door behind him, Loki straightened his coat and smoothed down his hair. His brother was such a nuisance. If their father didn't insist, Loki would never let him wear his designs.

Well, never mind that. He had other things to deal with. While better than most, Stark was an still incompetent fool, so Loki was going to have to intervene directly.

 

"Okay, people, let's try to do this right the first time," Tony said, clapping his hands for attention.

Pepper rolled her eyes and said to Steve, "Half the time, it's his fault."

"I heard that, Pep." He snapped his fingers. "Come on, let's go."

Pepper patted Steve on his back. "I'm amazed he has voluntary friends."

"He's not that bad," Steve said. But, no, Tony could be that bad. "Not all the time."

When they were ready for Steve, he met with the other model. She was very pretty, great eyes, soft face, cute haircut, and she had a very nice, uh, bosom that was artfully clad in a lacy bra.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Steve," he said. “A friend of Tony’s.”

She looked him up and down. Steve wished he was wearing more than the tight underwear.

"Natasha," she said at last.

"Alright, kids, on the couch."

Steve tried to concentrate. This was work. No pressure. No awkwardness. They sat on opposite sides of the couch, Natasha's legs draped over his. She was fantastic at this. The way she moved her body just screamed sexy. In comparison, Steve felt out-of-place and clumsy. Tony didn't make him feel any better.

"Come on, Steve, loosen up. Seduce me here."

"I'd rather not, Tony."

"Less talking, more pouting."

Steve turned and twisted as Tony instructed, but nothing seemed to please him. Natasha was perfect. Tony only needed to say, "A little more... yeah," and she would move in just the right way.

Steve had never heard that “being psychic” was a requirement for models.

The shoot was interrupted when someone said, "Have you screwed up yet, Stark?"

The man who had argued with Tony the other day strolled in. He was dressed just as fine today. No one looked happy to see him.

"Ah, now, see, with that little confidence, what can I possibly hope to achieve?" Tony said. "What are you doing here anyway? I've got everything you wanted already."

"Observing." The man picked a spot by one of the fill lights. "Oh, please, continue."

Tony grumbled to himself, but he went back to work. Steve tried his best to follow his snapped instructions, but he felt hot and anxious all of a sudden.

The man stopped them five minutes later.

"This isn't working," he said.

"Let me do my job, then you can gripe," Tony said, still snapping away. "Natasha, if you- perfect, thanks."

The man walked onto the set, looking disdainfully at everything. "I don't like this set-up. We'll have to redo it."

"Will you just-"

"Stark. We're done for today. Now."

Tony wanted to throw a tantrum; it was easy for Steve to see that. But he held back and called wrap. Natasha, without a word, slipped away. Steve fumbled for his bathrobe.

The man approached him. "Excuse me," he said. "Steve Rogers, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah." Steve attempted to tie the belt. It wouldn't cooperate, and the robe didn‘t want to stay closed. "And, uh, you are?"

The man smiled slowly at him. He held out his hand. "Loki Odinson."

"Oh." Steve stared at the hand a moment too long, then grasped it. The robe won out, falling open. "Nice to meet you."

It wasn't his most graceful introduction, meeting a man whose briefs he was wearing and showcasing. He tried as subtly as he could to close the robe once more, but Loki’s eyes dropped down as he did so. Steve’s face heated.

“So, uh, what can I do for you, Mr. Odinson?”

It took far too long for Loki’s eyes to meet Steve’s again. “Loki, please. I think I need to design something a little more fitting.”

“Fitting?”

“Yes.” Loki began to circle Steve, which made him feel vulnerable. “Meet me next week, would you? There are some things I’d like to try.”

Steve stammered out his response. “I don’t think I-”

“Loki!” Tony marched up to them. He was angrier than Steve had ever seen him. “This is my shoot, and I say when it’s over, not you. I’ve given you everything you wanted, so what is the problem? You want me to bleed for you, is that it?”

Loki patted Tony on the shoulder. “It was better. But not good enough. I’ll be in contact with some new ideas, Stark.”

“I am not your-”

“Here you are, Mr. Rogers,” Loki said, handing Steve a business card. Tony, ignored, threw up his arms and walked away, muttering.

Steve glanced between Loki and Tony. “Tony was-”

“My assistant will set something up with you.” Loki leaned closer to Steve, and he could smell whatever fancy cologne Loki wore. “I’m sure it will be a pleasure working with you.”

He smiled, waved, and left, leaving Steve still almost naked, red, and not quite sure what he’d gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

"You? A model?" Bucky glanced Steve up and down before bursting out laughing. "Oh, man, this I have got to see."

Steve stacked the boxes of nails on top of one another. "Bucky, come on. It's some extra money." 

But Bucky shook his head, still chuckling. He picked up one of the boxes and fiddled with it while he spoke. "Steve, I just cannot believe you. You're not some kind of air-headed bimbo."

Steve took the box a little more roughly from Bucky than necessary. "Look, it's just a few more shoots."

"Wait, so you're really going through with this?" Bucky said. "You're... you're impossible, man."

Steve didn't like how Bucky was looking at him. He continued to shelve the boxes, ignoring Bucky.

"Hey, dude." Bucky tapped his shoulder. "You have to promise me something."

"What?"

Bucky grabbed his arm and made him turn to him. Bucky hadn't been taller than Steve in a long time, but he had no trouble in making Steve feel shorter. “Steve, don’t do anything dumb or because you think you owe Stark something-”

“This isn’t about Tony.”

“Or,” Bucky continued, “because you have a misguided sense of duty or obligation. Steve, this isn’t you. You’re not some... underwear model. Who even designs underwear, anyway? These people, who knows what kind of thing they get up to. Drugs, sex-”

“Bucky, this isn’t some movie.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re overreacting. Look, I haven’t even agreed to anything yet. It’s just a meeting.”

“It’s your neck.”

At that moment, Steve's boss, Logan Howlett, popped into the aisle and yelled, "Barnes! I told you not to hang around here, or I'll force you to start mopping."

"Does that mean you're hiring me?"

"Get out!"

Bucky cast Steve a cheeky grin. "That's my cue. Watch your back, Steve."

 

It had taken three days for Steve to call. The card had sat on his desk, a green reminder that kept catching his eye. Four times, he picked up his phone but didn’t dial. Another three times, he got half way through the number. By the time he finally called, he barely had to glance at the golden embossed numbers to verify them.

The day of the meeting, he almost turned back when he finally reached the office building. It looked more like it would be home to a hotel, with a gleaming sign that read Asgard above the revolving doors.

It would be fine; like he told Bucky, he hadn’t agreed to anything yet. But meeting the guy wouldn’t hurt.

He was directed up to Loki's office on one of the top floors. Other people entered and left the elevator during the incredibly long ride, and not one failed to give him an appraising glance. Steve straightened his tie.

Loki's assistant, beautiful like all of Asgard's employees, greeted him. “Do you have your portfolio together? I can send that in first.”

Steve bit his lip. “I didn’t know I needed one.”

“Not a problem. If you could send one over as soon as-”

“Thank you, Sif, but that won’t be necessary.” Loki appeared behind Steve. He greeted Steve with a touch on his arm. “Please.” He gestured for Steve to go in ahead of him.

The office was expansive, with wooden panels and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. There was much too space for one person. Other than the mannequins wearing nothing but underwear, the office looked like what Steve imagined a typical office looked like. There was a sitting area, art pieces on the wall, and, of course, a large desk with neat piles of paper and an expensive computer.

Loki closed the door behind them. "Mr. Rogers, welcome."

"Just Steve is fine."

"Steve, then." Loki gestured to the couch by the windows. "Please."

Loki sat opposite Steve in an armchair. The couch was stiff and leather, and Steve shifted on it, trying to find a comfortable position.

"So, Steve," and Loki managed to draw out Steve's name, "I don't believe I've seen you in the ads before. What have you been concentrating on? Show work?"

"Concentrating?" He coughed to clear his throat, embarrassed. "I'm an art student. The work for Tony last week was the first time I've modeled."

Loki considered him carefully. "Well, I admit you do lack a finesse."

"Gee, thanks." He could see why Tony didn't like this guy.

"Oh, no offense meant. You have potential, Steve. In fact, I think you should be the face of my next line."

"Look, I agreed to help Tony with the couple shoots. After that, I'm done."

Loki looked amused. "Then why did you come here?”

"If I could help Tony with his work by helping you, that would be good for everyone." His explanation didn't impress Loki, who just rose an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it?"

Loki said, "Ah, yes, Stark.” He looked beyond Steve, a frown crossing his face. "But Stark cannot do anything without the right model and without my designs. Tell me, what kind of work do you do now, or are you a full time student?"

That caught him off guard. Steve said, "No, uh, part-time student. I'm a stocker at Howlett Hardware and do a few shifts at an art supply store. I can get cheap stuff there because of it."

Loki's lips quirked up for a second. "And you're friends with Stark?"

Steve didn’t like Loki’s tone or what his question insinuated. “My friendship with Tony doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Loki raised a hand in a calming gesture. “It was an aspersion on Stark’s character, not yours.”

“Class isn’t important to Tony.”

“The tabloids and my experience would say otherwise.”

“Well, the tabloids say a lot about you, too.” That was an outright lie. Steve didn’t read tabloids.

And perhaps it was the wrong thing to say. Loki’s expression grew closed off. He wasn’t angry, but his features were carefully schooled into a pleasant smile that wasn’t genuine.

“A lot of people say things. But what do you say about yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

Loki leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Who is Steve Rogers? What does he enjoy? What is he afraid of? Childhood dreams? Childhood traumas?”

For a moment, Steve considered answering him. But Loki’s gaze was too intense, and Steve felt sweat roll down his back. “I think maybe I should go, I don’t know if-”

"Stay. I'm merely trying to figure out who you are, Steve. You see," Loki stood and walked over to the mannequins in the room, "some don't appreciate that the same article of clothing is so very different when worn by individuals." He ran a finger down the seam of a pair of green briefs. "A trait my brother doesn't understand."

"Your brother?"

Loki's tone turned cold. "Thor's no longer involved with this campaign."

"I met a Thor at the first shoot. Same guy?"

Loki turned to him, surprised. "Of course he is. Thor is the very face of Asgard."

"Oh.” Thor had seemed like a nice guy, open, outgoing, and not at all like Loki. “I didn't know he was so well connected. Or famous."

Loki started laughing. "You have no idea how many times I have heard that."

"How many?"

"You make it the third time." Loki’s smile was warm now.

"My friend Bucky would probably make a fourth. You just don't talk to the right people."

Loki's mirth faded. His moods moved more quickly than anyone else Steve knew. "Clearly," Loki said. He sat down again. "Steve, what can I say to keep you on? I'll pay three times whatever Stark's offering. And that's in addition."

That would be a lot of money. But Steve shook his head. "I'm not really interested in the work itself." He shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"Pity. I do hope you reconsider. You will be finishing the Mischief shoots, though, won't you?"

"Tony said three or four more shoots, and that was it."

Loki smirked. "Good."

 

Loki saw Steve to the elevator. He ordered Sif to find out what she could about Steve Rogers.

Steve intrigued Loki. His little lie had been cute, an attempt to defend his friend. But there was still something Loki couldn’t figure out, something about Steve that Loki wanted to uncover.

“Sir, Odin wishes to see you in his office.”

Loki rubbed his temples. And just when he thought today was going well.

Outside his father's office, he was forced to wait a few minutes while his Odin finished up business. He spared a short disdainful glare at the man who left Odin's office.

"Loki," his father greeted him.

"Father," Loki said.

Odin sat at his desk in the middle of the room, his back to the large glass windows. The office took up almost the entire top floor, leaving far too much wasted space. Odin waved him closer.

"I hear Thor is no longer working with you."

Loki bit the inside of his lip. He knew this would get to Odin sometime or another. "Thor isn't right for this line. It just simply wasn't working, visually. You must understand."

Odin closed his eye. Loki had heard all the stories of how he had lost it, but Odin never revealed what the real one was. It helped keep a layer of mystery, which was good PR. Everything was about good PR. Odin was a wise CEO; Fortune 500 had written an article on it, and it was even framed in Odin's office.

"Loki," he said, "your designs are not selling well. Giving Thor greater face time-"

"Thor can't sell them at all!" Loki stopped, counted to ten, and began again. "It doesn't work with Thor. He has a hand in all of Asgard's projects, which should be more than enough. I need new inspiration, and Thor cannot deliver that."

"Loki."

"I have a new model lined up. Give me this, father. It will work."

"Loki... I think a vacation might do you good."

He could not believe this. Odin, the man who never stopped working, was suggesting he take a vacation? "Is this your way of firing me?"

Odin sighed and shook his head. "No, but some time away could do you some good. Help you find this inspiration you say you need."

"I have it. Now let me work my way. I'll give you the results you want."

He argued with Odin, but his father remained firm. 

He stared Odin in the eye and said, "Give me this chance."

For a moment, he was certain Odin would again protest. But the old man slumped back in his chair with a sigh. "I want to see significant improvement by next quarter."

"Thank you." It came out sharply, but Loki's temper was thin. 

He told Sif to cancel the rest of his afternoon. “Yes, sir,” she said. “And the information on Steve Rogers you wanted is on your desk.”

That cheered up Loki considerably.

 

On the way home, Steve couldn't not notice how prevalent advertisements were, all selling make-up, clothes, electronics, or services. Steve was very aware of how inundated the world was with marketing, but this was the first time he really looked at the models in the ads. Someone had to decide, according to whatever secret parameters they had, that this model or that suited the image they wanted to convey. 

He searched for images of Thor when he got home. Jeans, suits, cologne, there was even a candy ad that Steve recalled seeing before, although he hadn't connected the mostly naked Thor he had met to the grinning, candy-popping guy that assured him Doom Bites were The Best!

There were fan sites and paparazzi photos everywhere. People wrote about how they loved his hair, his smile, his ass, his muscles, his everything. Steve marveled at how people could be so into someone, especially someone who didn't do anything but look attractive. Yes, alright, Steve would admit modeling was harder than it looked; Tony had yelled at him enough to get that point across. But what was looking pretty worth?

At least Loki made clothes. Underwear. Designer underwear. Bucky was right, who even wore designer underwear? Steve took a moment to sort through his underwear drawer. He had Haynes and Fruit of the Loom, and he couldn't even guess at which he was wearing now. He couldn't imagine putting on "Loki Odinson" underwear, not as a conscious "I think I'll wear Loki today" thing.

He changed his search to Loki Odinson. There were fewer results, and a good portion of the images were still Thor modeling very revealing numbers. Loki smiled in the photos, but they were all press shots, posed, and he was clearly disdainful of the proceedings. He hesitated over reading any of the news articles. It felt like an invasion of privacy now that he'd spoken properly with the man. After a moment of deliberation, he closed his browser.

Steve turned the offer in his head all night. He didn't like modeling, but the money being offered was good, really good. Maybe if he could shuffle some shifts, he could it in, if he elected to sleep again.

He dozed off at some point. The sun filtering through his blinds woke him the next morning. He looked at the clock and realized he was late.

 

"I'm really sorry, Logan, it won't happen again," Steve said. He'd been distracted and had forgotten to set the alarm.

Logan took a puff from his cigar. Steve glanced up at the plastic bag covering the fire alarm.

Finally, Logan said, "Look, Steve, you're a nice enough kid. Won't get you far, but whatever. Thing is, I have to let you go."

"What?"

"Sorry, kid."

Steve asked for an explanation, but Logan just gave him his final paycheck and pointed to the door.

The next day, Steve called Loki's office and accepted his offer.

 

Loki greeted him with a smile. "Perfect," he said. "Shall we get to work?"

"Sure," Steve said. "Uh, what do you need me to do?"

Loki picked up a camera and fiddled with it. "Just stand over there and strip for me."

Steve looked at Loki. He looked out the giant windows. Then he looked down at himself. "Excuse me?"

"I need pictures for reference, and I'll need to take measurements." Loki tapped his foot impatiently. "We don't have all day. Strip."

Steve flushed, but he began to undo his shirt. He just needed to pretend he was a model for art class. That would be fine, that would make this a lot easier.

"That's a good boy," Loki murmured. He put down the camera and picked up a tape measure.

Steve's heart fluttered. With a deep breath, he pulled down his pants.

"Perfect." Loki snapped the measure between his hands. "Now turn around and bend over."


End file.
